Once Bitten
by INMH
Summary: For hc bingo, prompt "Bites" and angst bingo, prompt "Septicemia/Infected Wounds". Set during 9.03 "Rabid". That terrible moment when you realize that there's something to those zombie movies after all. Gross wounds and spoilers.


Once Bitten

**Rating:** PG-13/T

**Genre:** Hurt/Comfort/Angst

**Summary:** For hc_bingo, prompt "Bites" and angst_bingo, prompt "Septicemia/Infected Wounds". Set during 9.03 "Rabid". That terrible moment when you realize that there's something to those zombie movies after all. Gross wounds and spoilers.

**Author's Note:** I had a prompt to fill, and I was in a Tess-kind of mood. But then, I've been in a Tess-kind of mood for a month or two now. :3 God, but I am beating up on her a lot.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Smallville. It belongs to Alfred Gough, Miles Millar and the CW.

()()

Tess did not feel well.

_Of course you don't, you were bitten by a **zombie-**_

She shook her head and tried to focus on the article in front of her. It was one of Lane's, and dear God, even with spell-check the woman still managed to have at least five spelling-related errors. 'Conscience' should be 'conscious', 'eminent' should be 'imminent', 'personal' should be 'personnel' and-

Dizziness came hard and fast, and Tess was genuinely frightened when her vision went incredibly foggy for a full minute before coming back to focus. She had momentarily lost control of her body, tipping forward towards her desk, arms shaking as she tried to catch herself. It was like taking a blow to the head, but without any of the pain associated with it.

Well, at least as far as her head was concerned.

Tess shook her head, waited to make sure that her vision was steady, and then reached for her bag. She dug around for a moment until she could locate a small compact mirror, and upon finding it set it on the desk.

Then she hesitated. She'd worn a turtle-neck for a reason, to hopefully obscure the large gauze-bandage taped onto her shoulder where the- for lack of a less ridiculous word- _zombie_ had bitten her. While the throbbing had gradually gotten worse over the last several hours, Tess had avoided seeking medical attention for fear of having to actually explain how she'd gotten the wound. She had disinfected and covered it as best she could and hoped that it would get better on its own, that it would eventually recede and go away.

That did not seem like it would be the case.

Tess glanced at the door, and then reached up and pulled the neck of the shirt down. It did not soothe her concerns to detect a faint but unpleasant smell coming from under the gauze, and having once studied bacteria for a living, Tess knew that that was _not_ a good sign. She wasn't going to like what was beneath, but she wasn't going to Met Gen unless it was absolutely necessary.

Tess peeled back the gauze, gritting her teeth when the medical-tape tugged on the sensitive skin. The smell got stronger, and a bit more revolting. Finally, once she had pulled back enough gauze reveal the worst of it, Tess picked up the compact and held it so that she could get as good a look at it as possible; and when she saw what the bite-wound had become, she couldn't stop herself from letting out a little cry of alarm and disgust.

It was infected. It was badly, _badly_ infected. The smell had been a pretty good indicator of bad things to come, but this- This was just awful. The skin was a mottled gray, discolored with the veins beneath standing out with painful clarity. The wound was oozing with a brownish-red liquid that _might_ have been blood, but was too viscous to be just that. The edges of the bite-mark were blackened, the skin dead and rotting. The damage that had been wrought in under ten hours was absolutely horrifying.

Tess swallowed, shut the compact and dropped it to the desktop, where it bounced and rolled over the edge and to the floor. _Oh, I need a hospital. A- An ambulance, I mean. I need to call the hospital, but you don't call hospitals, you call 9-1-1, I- I know that-_ Everything was starting to look fuzzy around the edges again, and her mouth was suddenly dry.

It was like someone was constantly flipping a light switch in her brain, one side 'confused' and the other 'clear', the light's on, the light's off, light's on, light's off, and Tess groped around for the phone until she bumped it with the back of her right hand and almost knocked it off the desk. She picked up the receiver, and Tess had to take a moment to muster great effort and concentration before she could punch in those three numbers.

After two rings, the dispatcher picked up. "_9-1-1, what is your emergency?_"

"I-" Tess was stricken with another moment where she felt close to possibly blacking out, and she fell silent, mouth moving uselessly.

"_Hello?_ _Ma'am? Can you tell me what's going on?_"

"Ugh-" Tess managed an odd, incoherent noise, but she still couldn't form proper words.

"_Ma'am, stay on the line, we'll have som-eoneg-ettoyo-ua-ssoo-naspos-sible…_" Now the dispatcher's words were starting to blend together, warping and creating a mush of sounds that Tess couldn't decipher.

She started to feel sick, and pain started to creep up into the back of her skull, almost drowning out the pain in her shoulder. Everything was starting to dim, and she lowered her head to her desk and shut her eyes.

And as the minutes started to tick by, Tess started to feel a little less scared and a lot more… Angry.

-End


End file.
